


Sniper

by fabricdragon



Series: Rare Pairs and Special Requests [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers (2012), WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 10:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15071588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: What if... Clint Barton left after the suspicion, and angst over Loki's mind control... and ran right into Jim Moriarty?inspired by my stumbling over this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbbhV9AMO48&t=4s in which Jeremy Renner (scenes from the Bourne Identity) is Sebastian Moran...





	Sniper

Clint Barton had been kicked to the curb–pardon, “put on mandatory medical leave”. He understood it a bit: too many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents dead or injured, too many people not understanding that he’d been controlled.

It had felt so right at the time, though… so certain…

And then… then to find out that bastard had killed Phil. Phil had believed in him. Clint took a look around the plastic American motel he’d been stashed in: it looked like every other motel he’d ever been stashed in between missions. Phil wouldn’t be showing up with a mission, though, and they’d sent Nat on a mission way the hell away…

Clint did what they probably wanted him to do, expected him to do, and tapped his secret bank accounts, packed a bag, and slipped away. They probably hoped he’d kill himself, or do something to attract their attention and give them an excuse…

As it is? He planned to disappear.

They knew about Ronin, of course, and all of his other identities, and his fondness for the circus routes in America… so he walked into an airport and started picking up flights: Cairo, Bangkok, Munich…

He realized with amusement that he was very nearly following the song lyrics, said “What the hell”, and ended up in London.

He was just killing time until his next jump–no idea where he’d go, really–when a man sat down next to him at the bar and offered to buy him a drink.

“Why not?” Clint smiled.

“Oh! You’re American?” The man–he had to be an accountant or… _investments, that was it_ –smiled back, “I have to apologize, then, you aren’t who I was supposed to be meeting…”

“Pity.” Clint laughed, “Blind date?”

“Something like that…” He looked Clint over appreciatively. “Damn shame I have a prior commitment.”

Clint cocked his head and something… something clicked somehow. “You… are not an accountant…”

“No. Why? Did you think I was?”

“Yeah. I thought you were maybe an accountant or an investment banker…”

“I do a lot of investment work,” the man nodded, “but honestly I broker a lot of things.” He was looking at him very speculatively.

Clint turned and looked around, leaning back against the bar–then he spotted the man and smirked, “You were expecting to meet that guy.” He nodded, “He’s a decent sniper, but I hope you only want someone who follows orders, because that’s his strong point.”

He heard the man’s indrawn breath next to him, “You seem to have the advantage of me? Odd, given that I came up to you…”

“I have no idea who you are,” Clint shook his head, “but… when you’ve been in the business long enough, you get a sense for it, and that guy is known.”

“And who might you be, then?”

“Nobody.” Clint lost his smile. “Mission went south in a big way, and even if we managed to save everything at the last minute? Well… when your people don’t trust you anymore, it’s time to leave.” He looked over at the man: right now he couldn’t be mistaken for any kind of civilian or harmless at all–his eyes were intent and he looked like he was measuring Clint’s every breath.

“I’m not interested in causing you any problems.” Clint shrugged, “I’m a hundred times better shot than that guy, but I’m also hotter than hell and all the wrong people have my file.”

“Really… who did you used to work for?”

He figured he might as well tell him now–either he’d run or try to kill him. “S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he said quietly.

The man didn’t panic; he just looked thoughtfully at him. “A long time ago I learned that insanely impossible coincidences were either very good or very bad–but they were never boring.”

“Can’t argue that,” Clint couldn’t help but chuckle.

The man handed him a card. “Enjoy your drink, and if you want to talk about a job? Be at that address tomorrow afternoon.” He got up with his drink and walked over to the other sniper.

Clint looked down at the card– _Jim Fix-It, Odd Jobs a Specialty_ –and considered…

 

…and walked into a battered office on the wrong side of London the next afternoon.

The man from the bar was there, casually dressed in an office that had been carefully staged to say “nothing to see here”.

“It doesn’t suit you,” Clint grinned.

“No, but no one looks here, either,” the man shrugged. “You’re Clint Barton,” he said shaking his head. “Hawkeye just walked in and sat down when I was looking for a sniper…”

“I’m surprised you could find that out, actually,” Clint said, because it was true and he was a bit rattled.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has a very quiet bounty on you–doubled if you are alive and in usable shape.”

“I’m surprised it wasn’t doubled for proof of death,” Clint looked the man over. “So? If you’re trying to turn me in–”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the man smiled a sharp dangerous smile, “but I have a proposition for you.”

“Hiring me as a sniper?” Clint shook his head, “You know that would never work if they want me back.”

“There is nothing… in this whole world…” the man said walking around the desk until he was standing very close to Clint, “that I love more than stealing Big Brother’s playthings… and S.H.I.E.L.D. is the biggest big brother of all.”

“You have got to be kidding…” Clint trailed off as he looked at the man. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Not even slightly.”

“You actually think… that you can hide me, from S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Clint smiled, “That’s… um…”

“I know I can, and I can guarantee you a damn good income, and… well… you won’t be bored.”

“I have… there are people I won’t cross, and things I won’t do…”

“Any of them in London?”

“Not that I know of…”

“Then we’ll sit down and discuss your hard limits,” the man smirked as he made it sound lewd, “and maybe get you a safeword. Interested?”

Clint stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t even know your name!”

“I have a lot of names,” he shrugged, “so do you… but for right now? It’s Jim Moriarty…”

Clint stared at the man and slowly put out his hand. “I think this is a terrible idea.”

“The worst one you ever had,” Jim grinned like a shark and shook his hand.

“So now what?” Clint asked, feeling oddly comforted having a job again.

“Now we build you a whole new life…”

**Author's Note:**

> a warning: while i hope to continue this, i have a LOT of WIPs that should be in front of this in the queue, so ... this will update very erratically.


End file.
